


Party Queens (if you wanna be seen)

by ShippingEverything



Series: i will sing the song of Purple Summer [1]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Gen, Kissing, Multi, Social Media, its a pop band tbqh but ill use that tag, theyre in a band, this isnt relevant to the story at all but thea is asian and hanschen is black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-01-27 04:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12574244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingEverything/pseuds/ShippingEverything
Summary: Thea didn't set out to start a controversial movement but she's always been a finisherOr: Thea and the Great Kissing Crusade (capitals necessary), a play in five parts





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Burr voice* Okay so we're doing this
> 
> I literally could not stop myself from writing this au, it _called to me_. I figured out all this cool coding for tweets and tumblr and instagram and I wanted to use it and, well, create the social media fic you want to see in the world???
> 
> This AU requires a little background: basically, they're a band called Purple Summer. Melchior's the lead singer, Hanschen is guitar, Moritz is bass, Georg is keyboard, Thea is drums. Ilse is their manager, and Reiner Groble is ~~an asshole~~ their record company assigned agent. Also, they're Cobra Starship, like I'm literally picturing them as Cobra Starship. Sorry I'm living in 2009
> 
> Title from the Cobra Starship song "Smile for the Paparazzi": _Party queens / if you want to be seen / take a shit where you sleep / and smile real wide for the / pa-pa-pa-pa-paparazzi_

E! News @enews · 5h  
It’s warmer in the… green room? Purple Summer’s Thea caught stripping during a livestream: eonli.ne/3yhsi0y

12 bees @luxcaptor · 5h  
@enews Damn Entertainment News, back at it again with the slutshaming women in music

Howard Kinde @KindeH · 5h  
@enews And to think that she wants young women to look up to her. Disgusting.

HANS WINKED AT ME @SUMM3RST4N · 4h  
@enews what a shitty excuse for journalism

ya boy melchi @melchiorgabor · 4h  
hey fuck you @enews leave thea alone she was legit just getting ready

Georg Z @notgeorge · 4h  
I talked to Melchior while I was shirtless for a solid two minutes during the Periscope last night. All this drama around Thea is sexism.

BuzzFeed @buzzfeed · 4h  
Entertainment News tried to slut-shame Thea from Purple Summer and the internet fired back bzfd.it/3dhr8sk

hanschen. @hrilow · 3h  
The way that the media has fixated on a woman getting ready before a show is deplorable and embarrassing.

Purple Summer @PurpleSummer · 3h  
Purple Summer condemns the journalists sensationalizing @JustThea’s pre-show preparation. 

T @JustThea · 43m  
fuck y’all. i don’t exist to be your clickbait.

* * *

 

It starts with a video.

It’s just a dumb periscope, Melchior lounging at his stall backstage of the venue that they’re about to perform in and talking to his _adoring fans_ while everyone else is getting ready, partially because he’s bored but mostly because he’s obnoxious, and Thea is getting dressed and she walks by--Melchior’s stall is in the center of the room because he’s an egotistical asshole who thinks he needs to be in the middle of everything, so it’s inevitable, really--and she’s in the frame for, what, one second? Two? But that’s enough, apparently, and it’s suddenly _viral_ that Thea, who already gets enough dumb questions and innuendo over being the only girl in the band, walks around half naked around them, even though it was just in _her own damned green room_. Then, next thing she knows, the record company wants Thea to skype them so they can “talk” or whatever. It’s bullshit.

“This is fucking bullshit,” Thea snarls from her spot in their hotel room. On the screen of Ilse’s laptop, Reiner Groble sits at his desk in front of a curtained wall of windows and does nothing but raise an eyebrow at the unfiltered rage in Thea’s voice. Beside Thea, Ilse puts her head in her hands. “ _Language_ ,” Ilse hisses. Thea rolls her eyes and, like she can sense Thea being a little shit, Ilse removes her hands to glare at Thea.

Groble clears his throat. “Now, miss-”

“It’s just Thea. I don’t use my last name.”

“Miss Schmidt,” Groble continues like Thea hasn’t interrupted, ignoring her growl at the sound of her last name. “You have to understand, the record company doesn’t care about any of this, not really. You can be in whatever state of undress you want when you’re with your bandmates.”

“Then why the f-” Ilse stomps on Thea’s foot, hard, making her cut off her curse with a yelp. “Frick. Why the frick do I have to talk to you?”

“Because a Periscope isn’t exactly ‘with your bandmates’.”

Thea rolls her eyes. It wasn’t exactly Thea’s intent to end up in frame, but at least they can work from here. “Then why aren’t you talking with _Melchior_? He’s the one with the fu-freaking livestreaming addiction.”

Ilse throws Thea a look for her near miss, but only says, “I was confused as well when you asked to speak with only Thea. I feel that this should be a band discussion on appropriate times to use social media.”

Groble waves his hand, as though pushing off Ilse’s words. Ilse’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Mr. Gabor is merely doing what we ask of him: being publically charismatic and kindly engaging with fans.”

“Wait, are you trying to-”

“No, Miss Schmidt,” Groble interrupts Thea. “The issue here is that you have to be more aware of your surroundings and the kind of press you create. You’re a role model, Miss Schmidt, and parents don’t let their daughters listen to music made by controversial girls.”

Thea is, for once in her life, struck silent in pure disbelief. She hasn’t been this belittled and ignored since her father tried to get her to not drop out of college for the band; back then, she’d cried and pleaded for him to understand up until the day he disowned her “for her own good,” but now… Well, Thea hasn’t been little Thea Schmidt, that goody-two-shoes daddy’s girl who’d rather die than play the drums, in a very long time. And this time she's a lot more angry than she is sad.

Ilse is snapping back at Groble, probably about as angry as Thea is, but Thea just slams an open palm down on the table.

“And I can’t believe you’d- Thea?” Ilse looks up at Thea. Thea doesn’t know what her face looks like, but she’s not a fan of how Ilse’s looking at her, gently questioning and just a little bit pitying.

“Miss Schmidt, please tell me you’re not overreacting like your agent,” Groble says, because he apparently doesn’t know when to shut up.

“My name is Thea. Just Thea,” Thea says, “And I’m just as much a member of this band as Melchior is. Maybe even moreso, since I joined before he did.”

“I didn’t say-”

“No, you didn’t,” Thea cuts Groble off, “But what you did say was just as telling. I think this conversation is done.”

Ilse huffs something under her breath, but she doesn’t try to stop Thea when she leaves. Which, honestly, is good, because Thea’s pretty sure that she’d explode if someone tried to touch her. _I’ll show you being aware of the kind of press I create_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to try and have this done by finals *knocks on wood several times*
> 
> wish me luck


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *climbs out of the sewers* college is going terribly, thanks
> 
> also i made a playlist for this fic so uh if thats something youre into [it's here](https://open.spotify.com/user/22x3kxmjfa7zmbbuvqk3oqily/playlist/7rAOUMT5kBk2MvOqwL5GAA), and best listened to on shuffle

**JustThea  
** Atlanta, Georgia

[ _A picture of a sheet of paper with a handwritten note:_

_“I’ve recently been told to work on my image. That I have to be more aware, make sure that I’m not underdressed in someone else’s picture of video._

_“Fuck that._

_“I shouldn’t have to change myself to make others happy.”_ ]

**2846 likes**

**JustThea** I get paid to make music, not to make old men happy

View all 126 comments

**VacationersFanPage** We support you @JustThea!!!

 **bananna** Thank you so much for speaking up about this issue

 **Thea.PS.Fans** yas qween

 **pepeking** god how ~~~edgy~~~ i’m totally sure this isn’t a publicity stunt and that she thought of it herself

* * *

“When are you going to quit smoking?” Thea asks Moritz as she comes up behind him. They’re at a truck stop, waiting for the tour bus to refuel so they can leave Georgia. Moritz jumps and curses at Thea’s voice, because he’s more high strung than a laundry line on an apartment building. His hair is still gunked up from the show and he’s in a coat that’s, somehow, both too wide and too short for him. Thea’s not sure if it’s a fashion choice or if the coat is just Melchior’s.

“It’s only a vape,” Moritz replies, as he always does. He spins the e-cig in his hands before taking another puff, blowing out smoke rings. “And I’m, uh, almost down to zero percent nicotine anyway, so...”

Thea clicks her tongue but doesn’t say anything else. They have this conversation often, and Moritz has been _“almost down to zero percent nicotine”_ for nearly the whole time she’s known him; according to Melchior, Moritz had picked up smoking mostly by accident when he was a freshman in high school and then stuck with it to avoid withdrawal symptoms and relieve anxiety. He knows it’s bad for him, but he still hasn’t been able to force himself to drop his vape’s nicotine content below 10%.

“Ah, there’s our little symbol of lust!” Melchior shouts, coming out of _fucking nowhere_ like the gremlin that he is, and next thing Thea knows, he has his arm around her shoulders. She elbows him away, and he pouts at her, his dumb pink hair flopping into his eyes. “So mean to the man that made you famous.”

“ _Melchi_ ,” Moritz chides lightly. He’s tucked his e-cig away and is nervously twisting his hands together in a way that also _just so happens_ to push all the smoke he’s created away from them. _Interesting_ , Thea thinks, but whether or not Moritz is lying to Melchior about his smoking habits isn’t really her business.

“Yeah, Chior, shut the fuck up.”

“Don’t call me Chior, Tay.”

Melchior and Thea glare at each other and Moritz sighs, exasperated. They don’t hate each other, because it would take a saint to be in a band with someone you hated and Thea is no saint, but there’s still the irritation that comes from 1. Being together in their relatively small tour bus for extended periods of time, and 2. Melchior just being Melchior.

Moritz opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Thea says, “He started it.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Melchior replies. Moritz slides a hand down his face.

“No, seriously, where the fuck do you get off calling yourself ‘the man that made me famous’,” Thea screws up her face, “I never wanted to be famous for that dumb E News shit anyway.”

She doesn’t know what she’s done or said, but Melchior bursts out laughing. Moritz even raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t w-wa-wa-, uh, seen the video?”

Thea narrows her eyes. “ _What_ video?”

Melchior pulls out his ever present phone, pulling up an Instagram post. The first thing in the post is a photo of Thea, dramatically dipping a girl from the pre-show earlier, her name started with a J and it was her birthday, and it makes Thea smile. Then Melchior flips to the next part of the post, a video of the same event from the crowd. Thea frowns at the phone after it’s over.

“I don’t get it.”

“Maybe you should’ve shown her the comments, Melchi,” Moritz says, taking the phone. The first is from the girl who owns the account, a cute “Happy birthday to me!” It devolve from there. It seems to be half the girl’s friends, excited for her, and half Purple Summer fans screaming about a kiss.

Thea’s brows drew together. “Yeah, I kissed her on the cheek. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, Thea,” Melchior tuts, like he’s a generous deity who’s deigned to bless Thea with information. “Precious Thea. Lovely Thea. Our darling, dearest drummer-”

“Cut the bullshit and tell me what happened, Gabor.”

“They think you kissed her _mouth_ ,” Melchior says, and when Thea opens her mouth in disbelief, he gestures to the post again. Thea looks at the picture again; their faces are close together, the girl is flushed, and Thea’s lips are still sort of pursed from the cheek kiss.

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“The fans are crazy about it,” Moritz says, “This has, uh, overshadowed all the stuff from before.”

 _Well... you win some you lose some_. At least the record company won’t be on her anymore.

“ _I_ already ordered us all matching ‘Thea is a girl kisser’ shirts off of zazzle,” Melchior cuts in, instantly ruining Thea’s lifted mood.

“What?” She asks, squinting at him, “No. That’s dumb, where would we even wear those?”

“To interviews, of course.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“N-”

“ _Guys_ ,” Moritz jumps physically between Melchior and Thea, pushing them away from each other. Thea huffs and turns her back on both of them. “If you fight, Ilse will kill both of you and then kill me.”

Melchior huffs, “I should get back on the bus, anyway. I need to write a blog update.”

Thea turns around to watch him go, a pink spot disappearing into the artificial brightness of the truck stop. She watches out of the corner of her eye as Moritz pulls his e-cig back out of his jacket pocket and takes a huge gulp of vapour as soon as Melchior’s out of their eyeline. She hums. Moritz jumps.

“I’m not sne-sneaking around!” He says, as defensive as someone who’s sneaking around would be.

“I didn’t say anything,” Thea says. Moritz rolls his eyes at her.

“Come on, Thea, you know how Melchi is…” Thea raises an eyebrow. Moritz sighs out smoke and takes another drag. “It’s fine.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Thea settles on, after a moment of Moritz looking at her with those big kicked puppy eyes (and, honestly, no grown man should be allowed to look that innocent and helpless). “I just don’t think you should have to hide this sort of thing from your _best friend_.”

“I hide a lot of things from him,” Moritz mumbles, quiet enough that Thea doesn’t think she was supposed to hear. She politely pretends like she hadn’t.

“Well, I’ll be going back then. Enjoy your vapour.”

Moritz waves her goodbye and she heads back to the bus, hoping to grab some sleep before they roll into their next destination.

* * *

claireyfairy reblogged fyeahthea

maidofgold  
so uh this happened?????

wrappedwrists  
OH YM GOD JANE

maidofgold  
i got vip tickets for my birthday and in the pre-show q&a i asked for a pic and she went above and beyond the call of duty, honestly i still haven’t recovered

falkner  
*Thea voice* I don’t usually interact with fans, but when I do, I break the fandom

fyeahthea  
Transcript:  
Melchior: -irthday today! So, Janey, who’s your favorite band member?  
@maidofgold (Jane): Oh, I, um-  
Melchior: I won’t be hurt if it’s not me, promise  
Jane: In that case, it’s Thea  
[ _Melchior makes wounded noises, but he’s smiling_ ]  
Melchior: Let’s get her out from behind her wall of drums then! Come on, the birthday girl beckons, Tay!  
Thea, muffled: Don’t call me Tay, Chior  
[ _Thea comes to the front of the stage. Melchior shoves his mic at her_ ]  
Jane: Oh my god  
Thea: Hey there. So do you want me to sing to you? I’m not much for it, but I could give it a try  
Jane: No! I mean, you don’t have to. Would you just take a selfie with me?  
Thea, laughing: Yeah, sure. Actually…  
[ _Thea hands the mic back to Melchior. Thea and Jane have a quiet conversation. Jane hands her phone to Melchior_ ]  
Thea, yelling: You better not miss this shot, Gabor  
Melchior: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, one… two… go!  
[ _Thea dips Jane and leans in close to her face. The crowd crescendos. Thea lets Jane up and the video ends_ ]

claireyfairy  
THEA IS A GIRL KISSER WHO KISSES GIRLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M DYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#okay so it may not have been a kiss but IT WAS TOTALLY A KISS #WHEN WILL SHE KISS ME #who do i have to bribe #.mp4 #purple summer #Thea #gay tag

5937 notes

* * *

“Do I need to get a spray bottle? Follow you around and squirt you whenever you do something dumb, like ‘Bad musician! Be better!’?”

Thea winces at the volume of Ilse’s voice, at how angry she looks. Thea had been able to rest on the bus, but when she awoke, news of her new reason for fame had grown to her manager’s ears. Ilse has Thea sitting on one of the couches as Ilse paces in front of her, and the rest of the band is “still asleep,” aka eavesdropping.

“I just kissed her on the cheek,” Thea defends hotly. She’s not entirely sure why she’s in trouble but she’s not just going to sit here and take it.

“Do I look like I care about that?” Ilse asks, then holds up a finger when Thea opens her mouth to answer, “Rhetorical question. The point here is that it wouldn’t matter even if you _hadn’t_ actually kissed her, you’re not supposed to go around doing... _this_!”

Ilse waves her hands around angrily. Thea thinks that she’s trying to gesticulate whatever it is that Thea is supposed to not be doing, but it’s incredibly vague. “... Doing what?”

“ _Kissing fans!_ ” Ilse snaps, exasperated and annoyed, “Or posing like you might be kissing them, or whatever! It’s a liability, Thea.”

“But she’s 18 and I asked her, we used to do stuff like this all the time, I don’t understand-”

“You were small fries back then. You...” Ilse sighs, and when she speaks again her voice has softened a bit. “You can’t do things like that. It’s not a consent thing or a legality thing, it’s about image.”

Thea huffs, “So it’s because she’s a girl? My sexuality has been an open secret, we’ve literally been called the gay pop punk band.”

“It’s not that, though you should know that you’re supposed to come out in an _organized press statement_ , especially since you’ve watched everyone else in this band go through it-”

A hand pokes out from one of the bunks. “Except for Georg,” Georg’s voice says.

Ilse narrows her eyes at the hand, before taking a deep breath and pressing her fingers into her eyes. She concedes, “Except for Georg.”

“Our token straight!” Melchior crows, sticking his head out of his bunk, grinning. Ilse turns to him with a glare strong enough to curdle milk and he looks properly cowed.

“Shut it, Gabor. This is your fault too.” Ilse snaps. She ignores Melchior’s muttered _Aw, man_ , and presses on with, “I just can’t believe you’d all be so impulsive.”

Hanschen, for once not pretending to be above their drama, straight up opens his curtain. “You thought _they_ wouldn’t be impulsive? Thea and _Melchior_?”

Thea flips him off. Ilse’s face twists, like she wants to scream or cry; she does neither, instead just closing her eyes. After a minute, she breathes out and opens her eyes again, looking like she very much regrets agreeing to manage them.

“I’m going to go sit with the driver for a bit and ready the press release about this,” She says, “And you’re all going to _behave_ and prepare for our next show.”

They all chorus _“Yes, Ilse,”_ like how she’s trained them too and she retreats to the front of the bus, clearly trying to stay calm.

Melchior hops down off his bunk as soon as the door between them and the driver’s seats is closed, settling on the couch next to Thea. Thea tries to scoot away from him but when he stubbornly moves with her, she huffs and stops. Melchior grins at her, the kind of smile that would be disarming if she didn’t know what a little shit he is. “So what’s the plan?”

“I’m putting my headphones in,” Georg says, “Whatever happens after this, I didn’t witness it.”

“Ilse literally _just_ said to behave,” Hanschen adds from his bunk. Melchior points at him menacingly.

“Go back to texting your boyfriend and leave us alone, this doesn’t concern you,” Melchior says to him, then turns back to Thea. “So, the plan.”

“The plan?” Thea asks.

“Yeah, duh,” Melchior says, then rolls his eyes when Thea continues to look at him blankly. “The record company’s going to try and spin this one way, but _you_ owe them the _real truth_.”

Thea raises an eyebrow. “Wow… points for energy, I guess, but not quite good enough. Run it once more, but with even _more_ emphasis this time.”

“ _Thea_ , c’mon, do you really want Groble to have control over this? Really?”

Thea’s resolve immediately begins to waver. She _really_ hates Groble. “Well…”

Hanschen groans, “You know he’s only doing this because Moritz is asleep and he’s bored, right?”

“ _Leave the bunk or mind your own business, Rilow_ ,” Melchior hisses, which honestly just proves Hanschen’s point that this is only about his own entertainment. But still…

Thea’s about to agree to doing _something_ , when Hanschen, shockingly, leaves his bunk. Thea had been, for a long time, convinced that Hanschen hated everyone in the band and just stuck around for the fame--and then she realized that he was just a big prickly cat that hates being in close quarters with anyone but his high school sweetheart fiance for extended periods of time; as the years have passed, he’s gotten more comfortable with all of them, but it’s still rare for him to voluntarily leave his bunk to spend time with them on the bus.

Hanschen has his blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape, his phone in hand, and his eye mask still atop his tight curls. He takes the seat on Thea’s other side and says, “If you’re going to do this, I’m going to help. Mostly because I don’t want Ilse to yell at me because I let you two devolve into a trainwreck, but also because Ernst said that I should.”

Melchior makes a whip-cracking noise and Thea punches him accordingly. “What do you propose?”

“A tweet. Simple, short, quick; it’ll get your thoughts across and still leave room for whatever narrative the record company wants to paint.”

Melchior pouts, probably upset that his show’s been stolen. “I was going to suggest using Periscope.”

“You should be _banned_ from Periscope,” Hanschen glares at Melchior. Melchior sticks out his tongue. “That’s how you started this whole mess in the first place.” “Asshole,” Melchior huffs.

“Brat,” Hanschen answers in turn, then goes back to Thea, “You two didn’t exactly make a mistake, but we can still fix it.”

Thea scowls, “I don’t like how you keep referring to Melchior and I as a group.”

“Then stop being associated with his shitty ideas. Now,” Hanschen says, gesturing at Thea. She pulls out her phone and thumbs open Twitter. “Just write something concise and calm that reflects your personal feelings. Nothing inflammatory, nothing controversial, just an average statement. Do you think you could that?”

“I’m not a _child_ , I know how to compose a tweet,” Thea snaps. The types up a tweet that reads _**i can kiss whoever i want**_ , and sends it. Hanschen immediately groans.

“That doesn’t address the problem at all.”

“Well, I can-”

“ _Don’t delete it_ ,” Melchior says, throwing a hand over her phone. He quickly removes it when she glares at him. “You can’t delete tweets, too many people have your notifications on and it’s a sign of weakness.”

Hanschen picks up the thread. “He is, for once, right. You can fix this, just don’t send anything else until you really think about it. Also, make sure that you-”

Thea finishes sending her next tweet, _**i’ll kiss everyone in the world and i won’t apologize. i won’t be ashamed of my sexuality**_ , mid-Hanschen’s sentence. She makes a face but shrugs, thinking that what’s done is done and that what she wrote portrays her feelings pretty well. Hanschen stops speaking as his phone pings.

“Thea… why did Ernst just text me permission to kiss you for, and I quote, ‘the quest’?”

“I don’t know.” “Did you send another tweet?” Hanschen asks.

Melchior suddenly bursts out laughing, “Did she ever! I mean, Tay, I wanted interesting, but announcing your intentions to kiss _everyone_ in the world? That’s next level.”

“I- what?” Thea pulls back up her own tweets, “No, I was just saying that who I kiss doesn’t matter and that I wouldn’t apologize.”

“It doesn’t read like that, god, just look at those comments!” Melchior says, still laughing. “I’m retweeting this. Oh, I should get shirts with this tweet on them instead of the girl kisser ones.”

Hanschen presses his fingers into his temples. “This is why I don’t hang out with any of you.”

“That is _not_ what I meant,” Thea says. She wants to defend herself more, maybe make some more tweets, but she’s cut off by the door to the front of the bus opening.

Ilse appears silhouetted in the doorway, her head down and in shadow. Hanschen, Melchior, and Thea all freeze. Ilse looks up, rage in her eyes, and opens her mouth in a snarl.

“ _Thea!_ ”

* * *

BuzzFeedMusic @BuzzFeedMusic · now  
A kissing crusade? Purple Summer’s Thea declares the opposite of war on the earth

bzfd.it/yt9R3xU


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *climba out of the sewers* so uh I had writers block. Enjoy this Short chapter I'm nearly done w the rest of it (and completely done w the last chapter... I just have to bridge them) but it's giving me trouble and I figured I'd get it out asap

**hansrilow**

[A set of two photos. In the first, Thea is kissing Hanschen's cheek; Hanschen is rolling his eyes and Thea’s obviously not ecstatic about it either. In the second, Hanschen and Thea appear to be arguing and there’s a nearly perfect bright red lipstick kiss stain on Hanschen’s cheek]

1936 likes

 **hansrilow** For the quest #KissingCrusade

View all 281 comments

**e.roboat** So cute!!!

 **voidgirl** this is true mlm/wlw solidarity

 **yaboymelchi** new wallpaper  [4 heart eye emojis]

* * *

 

Ilse chews them out, because of course she does, but there's radio silence from their label. They do shows, get in their bus, and wait for _something_.

The “crusade,” on the other hand, takes off in ways Thea couldn’t imagine, especially because she hadn’t intended for it become this _thing_. Mostly it’s just small stuff like fans asking for selfies where she poses like she’s kissing their cheeks (Thea would offer to dip them like she did to that Jane girl, but she’s pretty sure that Ilse would kill her) or asking for lipstick marks along with their autographs. And still, not a single thing from their label besides an email telling them that they’re allowed to splurge on a few hotel rooms when they play at a three day festival in Ohio.

Which, of course, makes it way more annoying when Thea wakes up at 1am and is unable to fall back asleep, stuck lying in a soft, wonderful, _real_ bed and staring blankly at the roof. _Fuck it_ , she thinks, finally, rolling out of bed. It’s almost 1am and she’s thinking about going down to the hotel gym to work out some of her frustration. She rolls her shoulders, cracks her neck, and decides to just get some ice from the ice machine down the hall. She’s just cracked open her door when she hears Ilse talking outside the room. Peeking out, Thea sees Ilse pacing back and forth in the hallway, fretting on the phone to someone. Ilse and Thea are sharing a room, and Thea’s a bit shocked that she didn’t notice that Ilse wasn’t sleeping before she heard her voice. She considers still slipping out, but something about the tone of Ilse’s voice, the way she’s pacing, makes Thea stay and listen.

“They sent me an email a week ago, but besides that there's been nothing,” Ilse says, then after a pause for the other side to respond, “Yeah, but Groble’s screening my calls. Really, he’s been screening my calls since I got into it with him about Thea the first time.”

Thea frowns. That’s almost a month for the label to have been ignoring Ilse. Ilse keeps talking, but the conversation shifts to other things, and Thea inches the door closed. She leans against it, thinking. _So, the label’s mad at us_. She’s not sure how she feels about that, whether she’s proud that she--however inadvertently--made the stuffy, sexist executives upset, or irritated that they’re petty enough that they’ll ignore a whole, successful, band out of spite. Thea continues to think about it, leaning against the door, with Ilse’s soft muttering through the thin walls and the air conditioning as her background noise. It’s all so calming that she doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until she’s woken up by the door hitting her back.

“What the- _Thea_ ,” Ilse sighs. Thea mumbles back, unintelligible, head feeling heavy and dream-addled. She forces an eye open and sees Ilse, squeezing through the half-open door and looking more tired than normal. “You have a perfectly good bed and you fall asleep on the floor.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Thea mutters, closing her eyes again but shifting away so Ilse can get the door all the way open. “Heard you on the phone.”

Ilse sighs again. She pulls at Thea’s arm and Thea obliges, standing up and stumbling into Ilse, still half-asleep. “Just talking to an old friend. Don’t worry yourself, Tay.”

Thea hums doubtfully, but allows Ilse to push her into her bed. “‘M sorry, Ilse.”

Ilse clicks her tongue, pulling Thea’s covers up. “It’s my job to take care of you guys.”

Thea opens her mouth to respond, but she’s asleep again before a sound can leave her mouth.


	4. Chapter 4

T @JustThea  
two things.  
1\. yes i’ve seen the “how to get thea to kiss you” article, you can stop sending it to me now  
2\. here’s one thing that you might consider trying: just ask (i’ll still say no, but it’ll work better than anything in that ridiculous excuse for journalism)  
#KissingCrusade #StillNotClickbait

ya boi melchi @melchiorgabor  
@JustThea sure if u wanna do it the boring way

T @JustThea  
@melchiorgabor i wouldn’t put my lips near you if someone paid me, so none of this even matters for you

T @JustThea  
i thought we already established that i can see your replies. stop calling melchior and i an otp before i quit the band out of spite

Purple Summer @PurpleSummer  
Thea has no intentions to leave the band at current time. She had no intention of causing panic within the fanbase and apologizes for her ill-worded joke.

T @JustThea  
#oops

* * *

“So, Thea, can you tell us more about your kissing crusade?”

Hanschen, Moritz, and Georg had gotten questions about the music. Melchior, who _doesn’t even play an instrument_ , had gotten questions about their music. Thea gets this.

Their interviewer is a white guy at least ten years older than them who’s obviously trying to look younger, despite his badly tailored three-piece suit that’s way too formal for a hotel room interview. Thea is wearing a basketball jersey and skinnys and she’s pretty sure she looks better than him. Holding that close to her heart, she swallows down her immediate snap of irritation (She _did_ promise Ilse to play nice today) and says, “It’s really not much of a story.”

The interviewer laughs, his unnaturally white teeth glinting in the bad lighting. Thea’s fake smile locks a little more in place. “It’s everyone’s favorite topic, surely you have something to say about it! I mean, your bandmate certainly does.”

He gestures at Melchior who, despite literally everyone asking him not to, is wearing a shirt that has her tweet printed on it and below that, in sparkly pink text, _#KISSINGCRUSADE_. Thea turns her sigh into a laugh.

“It’s sorta like a joke, between us. I actually haven’t kissed anyone, besides kissing Hans on the cheek for that Instagram post, since it started. It’s mostly just posing and using a ridiculous amount of lipstick kissing papers and photos in the autograph line.”

Thea begins to tap her foot, the drumline of _Snakes On A Plane_ in her head. The interviewer drops his overlarge, fake grin a bit, obviously upset that there’s not _more_. Of course, there's more she could say: their agency contact has reappeared briefly to send an email containing a crash course on what they label wanted Thea to say about the Crusade: _“It's all a misunderstanding,” “It was just a one time thing,” “What’s some friendly intimacy between girls?”_ all supposed to be delivered with a coy grin or a vapid smile. Thea’s obviously chosen to treat their words as suggestions.

Instead, she's adopted a policy of transparency; she's found that since she's been honest about the actual video and there have been a lack of _actual events_ afterwards, it's more boring to journalists. Most of them give up after her initial brush off, but this one seems steadfast on getting _something_ from this line of questioning.

“But I’m sure you’re aware that this has brought about a lot of speculation about your sexuality?”

Thea squints at him, brows furrowed. “People have been calling us the gay punk pop band for literal years. People can’t _seriously_ think that only applies to the men in this band.”

“So you’re-” “Probably tired of talking about this _instead_ of our music, which this interview is actually supposed to be about,” Georg cuts in loudly, frowning at the interviewer. The interviewer leans back, looking a bit unnerved. _Good_. “Thea writes at least half of every song we play, and she definitely knows more about our music and process than _Melchior_.”

Melchior says _“ouch”_ softly, but when she glances at him, he’s nodding. Even Moritz, who had stuttered his way through exactly one answer before breaking eye contact and giving only _yes_ or _no_ answers, looks irritated.

“Down boys, I can speak for myself,” She says, rolling her eyes because _these men_ \--it’s been _years_ and they’re still always shocked when people treat her differently--but her heart still swells, just a bit.

“Since you want a statement, I’m bi. If you use anything else when I gave you a specific term, I’ll sue you. Now can you _please_ ask me some real questions?”

The interviewer laughs awkwardly and flips through his notes. Thea rolls her eyes. Clearly, everything on the prepared _Thea_ page had revolved around the Kissing Crusade. “Uh, so, you help write the songs?”

* * *

**moritzmoproblems**

_[A picture of Thea, grinning, surrounded by flustered teenage girls,one pale with bright blue hair, one tan with black hair, and one brown in a purple hijab. The girls are wearing rainbow flags on their shoulders as capes and the hijabi is handing Thea a bi flag]_

15 likes

 **moritzmoproblems** None of us are straight and yet Thea’s the band’s gay icon now

 **JustThea** it’s because i’m the best

 **yaboymelchi** please for the love of god put this on your public insta

 **moritzmoproblems** @yaboymelchi Ilse would kill me

 **yaboymelchi** @mortizmoproblems it’d be worth it tho

* * *

Ilse knocks on Thea’s bunk and pushes back the curtain. Thea, who’s wearing a facemask and reading the news, looks up. “Yeah?”

“Someone wants to talk to you.”

Normally when Ilse says something like that, she means a Make-A-Wish fan or a old friend, but there’s something about the way she says it this time that puts Thea on edge.

“Can I ask who?” Thea asks, putting down her phone. She doesn’t take off the facemask because she still has 6 minutes to go.

Ilse hums, “It's nothing bad, per say.”

“That’s not promising,” Thea mutters, but she stands nonetheless. Above her, Melchior hums the funeral march as she walks past and she blindly punches into the curtain, drawing a short _“Ouch”_ from him. She follows Ilse to the front of the bus, where Ilse’s laptop sits with an open Skype window, though there’s not a call going.

“Listen,” Ilse says, leaning over her computer, “I’m behind you one hundred percent. I don’t know what they’re going to say-”

“So it is the label?”

Ilse bites her lip. Thea stares her down. Ilse mumbles something like _The things I do…_ and speaks again.

“They have no reason to be mad, sales haven’t dropped and your popularity has actually grown, but…” Ilse sighs, “It’s been a _while_ since they’ve spoken to me, I don’t know what they’re thinking. I’ll be right here the whole time.”

Thea nods, pressing her lips into a flat line. She sits in front of the computer, placing it on her lap. Ilse squeezes her shoulder and then leans forward to press the call button. It rings for a moment, and then Reiner Groble’s office fills the screen. He’s sitting at his desk in front of his huge windows with the blinds closed, as always. Also as always, he’s frowning. He makes a face when he takes in Thea, in PJs and a facemask, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Miss Schmidt.”

“Reiner,” Thea shoots back. Groble’s frown deepens.

“I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to speak with you again before you and your companions returned to the city.”

 _Well, you almost made it_ , Thea thinks, but stops herself from saying. They’re only one stop away from returning for their tour’s conclusion in LA. “It would’ve helped if I knew what I was doing wrong.”

Groble doesn’t outright say _“You know what you’ve done wrong,”_ but with the way his lip curls, it looks like it’s a close thing. “I just want to talk about this,” He grimaces slightly, and Thea feels something like pride swell in her chest, “Crusade.”

“What about it?”

Groble steeples his fingers. “The narrative is becoming hard to control. If you’d just brush it off like how we asked, it’d all go much more smoothly.”

Thea takes a deep breath, forces her face to stay neutral. “The narrative is that I’m a bisexual woman who gave a gay fan a birthday present, and everyone else has blown it out of proportion.”

“You did say you were going to ‘kiss everyone in the world’,” Ilse mutters from behind her.

“Shut up,” Thea mutters back, but she has to fight back a smile now. “Really, Reiner, I don’t know what the problem is. Nothing’s changed, except that I kiss way more glossy photos of myself than I’m completely comfortable with.”

Groble’s face pinches. “You know very well what I meant. We gave you talking points-”

“All of which were homophobic!” Thea leans in, though she knows she doesn’t need to. “I’m bisexual. I’m into men and women and people in between, and I’m not going to say that my kissing a woman was an ‘accident’ or just gals being pals.”

“Really, Miss Schmidt, you’re always so unreasonable,” Groble says, and Thea swears she can _feel_ her blood pressure spike. “If you’d just listen to me and my compatriots, you’d know that we have the best in mind for you.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so shitty at being a decent person, I’d be more willing to listen to literally any of your advice.”

Ilse hisses “ _Thea_ ,” in Thea’s ear, though Thea thinks that she sounds just a _bit_ too delighted to sell the scandalized thing, at the same time that Groble says “ _Excuse me_?”

Thea lifts her chin. “You heard me. I’m not saying homophobic things to help my image, especially when my image isn’t even hurting the band.”

Groble splutters for a few seconds, mouth never quite catching on his next sentence. Ilse grabs the laptop from Thea, shooing her out. Thea stands and starts to shimmy her way around Ilse and back towards the larger section of the bus.

“I think that’s quite enough for today,” Ilse says.

“Are you just going to let your talent talk to _me_ like that?”

Thea hears Ilse inhale deeply and start “ _Mr. Groble_ -” before she closes the door. She leans against it, looking into the tour bus where her bandmates are resting. She can admit, at least mentally, that she may have fucked things up, but she definitely doesn’t regret it.

 _Well, what’s done is done_ , She thinks, and heads back to the bathroom. It’s about time to take off her facemask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO ITS BEEN A WHILE but we're back and almost done (literally one chapter left and im NEARLY DONE WITH IT)
> 
> sorry that im flighty af and wrote like 5 other fics instead of updating this one lol


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said this would be out last night but im a Liar and also i work at 8 am every day so sorry i need to go to sleep. anyway!!! we're done!!!!! we made it fellas (there will be a one shot abt their New Manager out in like,,, two weeks or less so like im never Really free lol)
> 
> thanks so much for reading and i hope you enjoy!

 

 

From: Smith, Julianna

Subject: Changes Regarding Your Representation At Muse

To: Neumann, Ilse; Zirchnitz, Georg; Gabor, Melchior; Stiefel, Moritz; Rilow, Hans; N/A, Thea

Hello **Purple Summer** ,

My name is Julianna Smith and I preside over the HR department here at Muse Records. I am emailing you all today to let you know that your previous manager, Mr. Reiner Groble, has retired! While this is an exciting day for him, I’m sure that you all are concerned about your own futures and I’m here to assure you that you shouldn’t worry. A replacement for Mr. Groble has already been found and will be hired within the week!

I’m certain Mr. Groble’s replacement will reach out to all of you in due time, but feel free to email me if you have any questions!

Thank you for your understanding!

Julianna Smith  
HR Manager  
Muse Records  
EXT. 957

 

* * *

When Ilse walks in her apartment, she does a double-take. Most of Purple Summer (sans Hanschen, who is upstate visiting Ernst) blinks back at her. She walks out into the hall, presumably to check the apartment number, comes back, and says, “I gave you that key for emergencies.”

She’s talking to Moritz, who she _did_ give a key to for emergencies, but Moritz had been afraid that he’d lose it, so he’d made a copy to give to Georg, and Georg made a copy for Hanschen because he didn’t want to be the only other person responsible, which led to Hanschen making a copy for Thea just because he thought she should have it; somewhere along the way, Melchior also got his hands on one, quite possibly the original that Ilse had given Moritz, but long story short, every single one of them has a key “for emergencies” and Ilse knows it.

“We made you dinner,” Moritz says, though it should be more _We ordered you dinner because none of us actually know how to cook_. They even got extra greasy Chinese food from the place down the street, Ilse’s favorite, so Thea thinks that Ilse really should be more grateful, even if they’re all sitting on her couches and using her plates and utensils to eat.

“Also, I’m pretty sure this counts as an emergency,” Georg adds through a mouthful of teriyaki. “Like, I’m no _Hollywood Insider_ , but I’m pretty sure that getting a letter saying that our manager quit isn’t good.”

Ilse sighs, running a hand down her face. “He retired.”

“Same difference,” Thea says, waving a hand, “The point is, we literally don’t have a manager right now. Julianna said they’re hiring someone new but like, tell it to us straight, are we being fridged?”

Thea doesn’t say _Did I get us fridged?_ even though it’s been the only thing on her mind since she got the email, but Ilse must hear it anyway, because she finally makes her way away from the door, ruffling Thea’s hair as she walks past.

“No, they’re really hiring someone else. I just saw his resume, actually,” She says, starting to make herself a plate, “He’s young, and I think this is his first job like this, but he seemed qualified enough.”

Melchior has his phone out before Ilse has even said _“young”_. “Name! Give me a name, I want to google him right now.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Ilse tilts her head, as though she’s considering it, before throwing one of her chopsticks at Melchior’s head. “Fuck no. You’ll all meet him eventually, and you can google him then.”

“Are you giving Melchior leave to google our new manager _while he’s talking to him_?” Georg asks incredulously. Ilse shrugs.

“If he can’t deal with that, then he’s not long for this business anyway.”

“How cold,” Thea says, but she holds her hand out for fistbump anyway. Ilse obliges with a smile. Maybe things are gonna be alright.

* * *

**e.roboat**

[a picture of Hanschen Rilow, skyping the rest of Purple Summer, obviously agitated]

30 likes

 **e.roboat** I finally get him back and he spends half the day talking to the people he’s spent the last three months with  [eyeroll emoji]

 **neumoney** He should’ve waited a day to drive up

 **georgz** @neumoney let’s not play around we all know something else would’ve popped up

* * *

“Why are we here again?” Thea asks. She, Melchior, and Moritz are at a dive bar, with sticky floors and bad lighting and terrible music. “Didn’t we move past this phase of our careers?”

“We’re not here to bum drinks or play,” Melchior yells back, over a song with a beat that is, quite possibly, the worst thing Thea’s ever heard, “I have a friend playing tonight, and I wanted to share it with you.”

“ _You_ have friends?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tay,” Melchior replies happily, walking backwards for a second so Thea can fully enjoy his grin and double-middle-fingers.

“Don’t call me ‘Tay’, Chior!”

Moritz, who’s behind Thea, tugs at her sleeve. “She’s my friend, actually. I don’t, uh, think Anna cares much for Melchior.”

“Who does?” Thea asks, rolling her eyes. She can feel more than hear Moritz sigh. Still, she continues following Melchior as he leads them further into the bar, until they’re mere feet from the messy, barely-standing stage. “So what’s the show?”

“It’s a band called Pops!, like with a, with an exclamation point? I don’t know much about them, but my friend, Anna from high school, is subbing in for their guitarist and I’ve, uh, never got to see her perform live before. It’s so rare that I’m in town _and_ free.”

“‘S the band any good?” Thea asks.

“Absolutely not,” Melchior says. Moritz nudges him, eyeing the people next to them that look like they might actually be Pops! fans, but Melchior pays them no mind. “Looked them up last night, they all want to be the superstar and they don’t mesh well.”

“So why are we here? If I wanna listen to subpar music I can open up my Release Radar on Spotify.”

Moritz grins at Thea. “Because Anna’s _fantastic_.”

When Pop! finally takes the stage, and Thea gets her first look at Moritz’s Anna, Anna’s… not at all what Thea expected.

Anna Wheelan looks like she should be in at a prep school; she rolls onstage in a honest to god jean skirt and a pale yellow flowy tank top, when everyone else in the band is wearing ripped jeans and neon. Her dyed blonde hair is in a high ponytail, held up with a sparkly scrunchie. She’s tiny and bright and just _different_.

“That’s your Anna?” Thea asks, skeptical. For as long as she’s known him, Moritz has had a pretty emo aesthetic, so it’s unexpected that he’d be so close with someone who Thea would unironically describe as a prep.

“That’s my Anna,” Moritz confirms, whooping loudly and waving at her. Anna looks over and immediately turns bright pink. She makes a face at Moritz and then turns away from them, looking determinately at anything else.

Thea furrows her brows, “What was up with that? She looked excited to see you for a second but… Did she get nervous?”

Melchior laughs. “Oh, did Moritz not mention? Anna’s not always into Purple Summer’s stuff but she’s a _huge_ Thea fan.”

* * *

T  @JustThea · 35s  
music doesn’t have to be good to speak to you

Moritz @moritzstiefel · 43s  
@JustThea subtle

T @JustThea · 13s  
@moritzstiefel shut up i’m being deep

* * *

The music is, as she’d been warned, not great. It’s not the worst thing ever, but it’s nothing she’d spend her free night on normally. Anna, however, is a bright spot in the set. She’s so good, good enough that-

“She’d be perfect for the tour!” Thea says as they wait outside the bar for Anna to join them. “Why would we root around for someone to backup Hanschen for next tour when Moritz has a perfectly good friend right here?.”

Moritz nods, but before he can speak Melchior groans loudly, “You’re _so gay_.”

Thea feels a flush rise to her face. “ _Listen_ ,” She starts, only to find that she really doesn’t have any defense. Anna _is_ good, good enough that she’d probably be considered for the tour backup role if she tried out, but Thea’s not just speaking up for her because she’s _good_. “Fuck you.”

Melchior rolls his eyes dramatically, moving his entire head with the motion. Moritz sighs and steps between them. “I don’t know if Anna’s ever done a-anything long-term like that. She mostly just does YouTube covers and subbing, but I think it’d, uh, but cool to ask.”

“But Thea just wants her because she thinks Anna’s cute,” Melchior whines.

“And you just wa-wanna do tryouts because to find a cute boy to flirt at,” Moritz says. He looks away from Melchior as he says it, but also won’t meet Thea’s eyes. _Weird_.

“But-”

Moritz turns back to Melchior, and Thea’s not sure what he does with his face but Melchior immediately switches from his normal _complaining white boy_ posture to something more alarmed. Moritz asks, “Do you think Anna’s not good enough to play backup for us?”

“I didn’t say that,” Melchior hurriedly corrects, looking to Thea for support. Thea shrugs at him. “I never said she wasn’t good.”

“Good. Then Thea can ask her.”

“Ask who?” A voice behind Thea says. Thea turns around and sees Anna, still as preppy as ever if a little more sweaty.

“You, actually,” Thea says, holding out a hand. “I’m Thea.”

“I know,” Anna says, eager and quick, before flushing again. She shyly takes Thea’s hand and shakes it. “Anna Wheelan. I went to high school with Moritz. I mean, I’m sure you already knew that, sorry, it’s just... I’m a big fan.”

“I’m honored,” Thea says. She shows it less than Anna, certainly, but she’s not totally unflapped. Anna is just as cute up close, after all. Still, she tries to smirk and throw on the playgirl drummer persona that everyone’s constructed for her, but she can feel the expression spreading on like a grin. “Say, you were pretty good. Have you ever considered working with a band?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> \- yes thea did drive groble to retirement and no she doesn't regret it  
> \- yeah I'm setting up theanna you can't stop me  
> \- Moritz is in love w melchior, as i think he almost always is when I write him (even tho Melchior is a d bag), but thea doesn't know that
> 
> Once again, thank you so so so much for following along with this story, and I'll see y'all around!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> [buy me a coffee!](http://www.ko-fi.com/squidias)  
>  _
> 
>  
> 
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